The Piano Kid
by ClosetedDork
Summary: Brad was just heading to get some donuts when he heard the sad music from the piano in the choir room. Not a moment later, a sad voice joined the piano. The donuts would have to wait.


The schools hallways were empty. Silent. There wasn't a soul in site. The janitors were cleaning upstairs, so I had a chance to visit the teachers lounge before it was locked up. Someone brought donuts today and not many people ate them because Mr. Chris brought them in. No one is sure when he last washed his hands. However, I have four kids. Two of them are in middle school, the other two are in elementary school. I'm use to stickiness and germs.

I freeze ten feet away from the teachers lounge. Coming from the choir room, which wasn't that far away, was the sound of a piano playing. It wasn't average or bad. It was amazing.

Normally, people here would slam on the piano keys (hurting the keys and the ears of others). Others would know the simple chop sticks and nothing else. This person was playing an actual song. It sounded familiar, but I couldn't but my finger on it. Probably something my kids listen to. Maybe something Will got for the kids to sing.

Curious as who is the second best piano player is, I pause on my quest for the donuts and head to the choir room.

Before I got the door, I heard someone sing. If it was the piano player, he was defiantly male. His voice was deep, so I also know it couldn't be someone in the glee club. A voice like that was needed, but they're too wrapped up in their own drama and stupidity to realize it.

The voice also sounded like he was trying not to cry. Damn. This is going to be a huge drama filled moment those gleeks always have right in front of me. I hate these moments, even with my family. The piano stopped and sobs filled its place. I have two options. See what's wrong and comfort him, or get my donuts and go home to four kids and my wife.

I love my family, and donuts, but they'll have to wait.

Slowly, I walk toward the choir room. The piano started up again. I kept moving, listening to the piano and singing. If he wasn't crying, he would sound a lot better.

I stopped at the doorway and stopped. I recognized this kid. He was that bully guy. He came and apologized for bullying when they did that acceptance week. What was his name? It was a big name, right? Started with a C or K? No, that was his last name. What was his first?

I put that off just like I've put off a lot of things today and watch him. He's singing an older song and he was pretty good at it. I can't place my finger on it though. The words he sings don't sound familiar. What shocked me most was there was no sheet music in front of him.

I stood there and watched the kid play. His back was turned toward me, but I could just barely see his fingers dance across the keys. His voice, full of tears, was echoing through the empty room and spreading to the hallway. It wasn't long before he stopped playing again to cry.

Before he could continue playing, I stepped in the room.

"You're pretty good." It's strange. I don't talk much in this room. In fact, this might just be the first thing I've said in the choir room.

The boy sat up in shock. He turned around quickly and looked at me. His face suddenly filled with relief. I smiled and his face filled with horror again. He must have realized who I was.

"Who are you?" He asked, scared.

"Mr. Ellis." I said simply. "I teach piano classes for kids around town. After school, I play the piano for the glee club. Now, if you don't mind me asking, who are you?"

The teenager face was frozen in fear. I raised and eyebrow at him, waiting for him tell me his name. Seriously, just calling him the kid is boring. He probably won't tell me because he's scared I'll tell people he can sing and play the piano. Probably thinking I'll force him into the club.

"Dave." He muttered. I noticed his face was red with dry tears on it. He looked scared and embarrassed. The smile on my face vanished. This kid is really upset. "Dave Karofsky."

Karofsky! That's what the kids called him. I wonder why no one ever calls him by his first name.

"You're good at the piano, Dave." I said. "And you're good at singing." Dave smiled sadly and looked at his feet. "You'd sound better if you weren't crying, though."

I smiled, hoping that he would realize it was a joke. Dave, however, turned back toward the piano and looked at the keys. His hands picked up again and started to play slowly. I didn't know if he was just hitting keys or actually playing a song. It didn't matter which one it was, the music was heartbreaking.

Slowly, I stepped closer to the piano and watched his fingers dance over the keys.

"Is that a real song?" I asked. He nodded, but didn't bother to tell me what song it was. I didn't bother asking him.

"You're the kid who bullied the others, right." His fingers stiffed and his stopped playing. I looked away from his hands to notice his whole body was stiff. Yes. He did bully others.

"Calm down, son. Nothing to freak about against. You're a teenager. You make mistakes."

"Too many." He muttered. His body relaxed a little, but I could still see he was scared and slightly angry. His fingers didn't move.

"Things always get better." I say. My wife tells me that all the time. After a boring day, the next will be exciting. Keep your hopes up, don't let them down. She's the one who should be here. She's better at confronting people.

"Not for me." Dave muttered. His fingers tapped the last key, then the one next to it. The sounds filled the room.

"Mind if I sit next to you?" I asked after a few awkward seconds. He didn't say anything. He just stared at the keys before scooting over. I sat down at the bench. The moment I sat down, his fingers slid off the keys. I looked at his face. Small tears were running down his face.

"You know what I like about pianos?" I asked. I didn't like it when people cried. I don't like sad people all together.

Dave looked at me. The tears were running down his face. Nearly his whole face was red. His eyes were bloodshot. He looked like he just got over his big crying moment, but another one was going to start unless he got cheered up.

"Pianos are like a passage way to emotion." I said, looking away from his face and to the piano. "They can make anyone sad," I pressed a few keys to make a sad melody. I smiled at Dave. He blinked. "They can make you happy." I pressed a few more and happy notes filled the air. "They can make you angry."

I looked at him. If he was such a good piano player, he'd know what to do. Besides, I was too far away from the low notes and it'd be awkward if I leaned over.

Dave got the message and slammed three keys at the same time. Ah yes. Classic, but always able to make people remember why they're angry.

"They can make you scared." Again, Dave played a few keys. Low, lower, lowest. He held onto the lowest key the longest. "They can make you feel loved." I pressed a few keys. I reminded me of a bird singing.

"Even if your not playing for someone you love or someone is playing for you, you still feel like the music loves you. It wraps itself around you. It's just you and the music. It hugs you and tells you it'll be alright." I stopped and played the singing bird again. "You ever feel like that?"

I looked back at Dave. He was staring at the piano. His face was less red. His eyes less tearful. He nodded.

"After my mom left," He sniffed, "I played the piano for two hours straight. I didn't stop until Dad told me my fingers were red. I didn't even noticed."

He didn't speak. He looked down at his fingers, probably picturing how they looked that day. His mother left him. Maybe that's why he's a bully.

"How'd you feel while playing that?" I asked when he stopped talking. Dave stopped looking at his hands and looked at me.

"I felt sad. My mom just left and I thought it was because of me. I thought she hated me. I don't know why. I just did. I played sad music, but after a while, I felt warm. I felt at peace. I realized that Mom was gone, but I wasn't alone. I had Dad. I had my friends. It still hurt, but I realized things were going to be okay."

I smiled at him and looked at the keys. It is true. Everyone has a moment when music made them feel better.

"I felt like that once," I started, "My wife and I were pregnant with our third child. We named him Joseph. When he was born, he wasn't breathing. The doctors immediately took him away because he was blue. We sat there for three hours before we found out he died. We never even got to hold him."

Dave looked at me in shock. I shrugged, smiled, and tapped a key.

"When we got home, our son and daughter were begging to see their new brother. We told them that he went up to heaven. Later, I played a song for everyone. My wife was locked in her room, but she came out not long after I started playing. We were sad, but not alone. We knew that little Joseph wasn't ready for this world."

"God, I'm so sor-" I stopped him by raising my hand.

"You did nothing. Besides, right now, we aren't apologizing. We're feeling." Dave nodded and looked back at the keys.

"Do you know any classical songs?" I asked him. Dave turned to me like I grew an extra head.

"I was taught that you're not a piano player unless you can play classical music. I'm a piano player. So yeah." I laughed. His face was barely red now. Not even his nose. He was even smiling a little.

"Do you know The Entertainer by Scott Joplin?" Dave nodded.

"It always made me happy as a kid." He said with a smile. I nodded.

"How about Golliwog's Cakewalk?" Dave looked at me confused. "I guess not."

I got up and walked over to a nearby stand. All my music sheets were in it. My wife and I wrote out a song not long after Joseph's death. We'd stay up hours every night for a week to write it out. By the time it was his funeral, we played it for him. It was happy music with a mixture of sad to show our goodbye. To this day, I still can't believe we managed to write one in a week.

"My wife and I wrote this a few years back." I said sitting back down. I gave him one of the sheets. "It's a duet. Show me how good of a piano player you are."

Dave put the sheet up and looked over it. He smiled and nodded. I didn't even wait a minute before he was playing. I didn't bother to be shocked. I started playing my parts.

If this was a movie, there would be people around us. They'd pop out of here from nowhere and watch us starting a new friendship. But this wasn't a movie. The school was still empty. The goodbye music flew from our fingers and hit the walls. No one would clap when we finished. The friendship part, well, who knows?

Joseph's Song wasn't long. It ended after only two minutes. Dave and I were smiling at the end. I wonder if he got the message my wife and I were making. Knocking that out of my head, I stopped playing and watched Dave play the last few notes before I ended it. Finally, I hit too keys and let the music echo.

"That was awesome!" He said, grinning. Holy crap. Did I actually make a kid stop crying? "Do you got another one?"

I laughed and shook my head. "No more duets. However, I wanna hear you sing again. You're not crying anymore and I want to hear your real voice."

Dave bit his lip, thinking it over. As he did this, I opened my Note Book and looked for a song suitable for a deep voice.

"What do you have?" He asked. I had trouble finding a song. Most were jazz, but what teenager listens to that? Then again, he plays classical music. And wasn't he singing a jazz song when I first got here?

"Do you like Frank Sinatra?" I asked. Dave smiled and nodded. My eyes went wide in shock. This kid parents must have a good ear for music. "Do you know That's Life?"

Again, Dave nodded. "Do you have lyrics?" I pulled out of sheet and handed it to him. He smiled and read them.

"Now get up," I said, "I'm playing. You'll sing."

Dave rolled his eyes, but stood up. Teenagers. I dread the day my little girl hits high school. I scooted over a little more and set my fingers on the keys. Dave was looking over the lyrics. I started to play and he looked up.

"That's life." He sang. "That's what all the people say!"

I smiled as he sang. The song fit his voice. His voice fit this kind of music. Plus, this song can really pick someone up. Maybe I should've just played this song. He was singing and happy.

"I'd been up and down and over and out and I know one thing." I wonder if those donuts were still good. Did the janitors come down stairs and throw them out? I hope not. I'm starting to crave donuts now.

The song ended. Dave was grinning. Besides the dry tears on his face, it doesn't even look like he was crying. I scooted back over and let Dave sit back down.

"You're good." I said. He nodded. "Great even. Why aren't you in glee?"

Dave's smile faded. Oh shit. Did I ruin it? I finally made him happy and now I have to ruin it? What the hell is wrong with me?

"No one would want me in there." He muttered. Okay, I'm still good. I haven't ruined it. I'm not going to ruin it.

"When they hear you sing and play the piano they would. You'd be getting more solos than the big nose girl and the tall guy." I knew no ones name. "They'd be idiots to turn you away."

Dave laughed. "You're lying."

"I'm not." I said simply. Dave shook his head. I sighed and gave up. I might as well make this worse. "Why were you crying in here?"

Dave looked like he was ready to run. He didn't want to talk about this. I'm not going to force him. I just won't tell him that.

"I was sad." He whispered.

"No shit." I said. "Why were you sad?"

The air grew awkward again. I suddenly felt uncomfortable. I hate this feeling so much. Talk damn it! Talk!

After so many painful moment, he finally said something.

"You promise not to tell anyone?" He asked. "Especially the glee club."

I nodded. "I'm just furniture. If I said anything at all, no one would even notice."

The awkwardness was back again. He was thinking it over in his head, but I felt awkward. I couldn't do anything because then I'll be rude. I just have to wait for him to say something.

"I'm scared." He muttered. I didn't speak. He wasn't done yet. "I'm scared of what everyone will think when they know. I don't want everyone to know, but I hate hiding this."

I'm confused. "What exactly is 'this'?"

He laughed and rubbed his eyes. Shit. I'm making him cry again. Gotta get out of here. Gotta leave. Fuck the donuts. Just get out of here.

"I'm gay." Okay, stop. What was that? The jock was gay? Never have I thought there would be a gay jock in Lima. I got nothing against it, but wow. Here in Lima? It's the second worse place to be gay. The first is the south.

"And?" I asked. "That doesn't mean you should be scared or what people will think. You're a football player, right?" He nods. "You're strong, big. Anyone who thinks bad about you should be ignored. If everyone begins to hate you, fuck them. They weren't your real friends."

"I'm just worried." He whispered while standing up. "What if I lose everyone? What if I'm hated and bullied as bad as Kurt was."

Whose Kurt? Okay, think. He's talking about him being gay. Gay. .. gay. . . bullies. Oh! The flamboyant gay guy. I think that's who he's talking about.

"Again, you're a big guy." I said. "If they bully you, don't stand there. Fight back. Tell a teacher or something. Ignore them all. Anything. Just don't hate who you are."

Wait a minute. Does he want to come out to everyone? That's like getting off of a prescription. You have to wend yourself off before you stop completely. That way you don't get hurt.

"Or better yet," I started, "Don't tell everyone." The jock looked at me like I was an idiot. "Tell some people you trust. You're parents. Close friend. You're girlfriend." Poor Latina Bitch. Her boyfriend is gay. This will break her heart. "You don't have to tell everyone right now."

Dave leaned against the wall and thought it over. My idea sounds good to me. Hopefully, he'll think so too. I'm starting to connect with this kid. He's different and one knows the true him.

Kinds of reminds me of myself.

"And if you want a place to fit in, the glee club is always open to new members. Like I said, they'd be stupid to push you away. And once someone is in glee, they have friends for life."

More awkwardness. How long does it take to think? It's been a minute already. How long have I been here? Feels like an eternity. Might be almost an hour. Please let the donuts still be there.

"I think I'll do it." He whispers so softly, I almost didn't hear him. "I think I'll join glee."

He smiled. Yes! I made a kid smile. I closed the lid on the piano and stood up.

"That's great. You want to audition Monday?" He nods. "Pick out a song. I'll get the notes for you. Think it over and tell me tomorrow or on Monday morning."

"Actually, what about playing the piano myself?" I smiled. This kid is my favorite member and he's not even in glee yet.

"That's even better. If you need help finding the sheet music, I can help." Dave nodded and grinned. On Monday, I'll introduce you to everyone."

Dave stood up. His smile was still bright. I pray to god he doesn't change his mind.

"Thanks Mr. Ellis." He said. "Monday will be a day of first for us. You'll no longer be furniture and I'll face my fears."

"Call me Brad." I said. "I hate being called Mr. Ellis."

Dave nodded and walked out the door, the grin still on his face. I need to tell my wife about this. I just made a teenager happy. Maybe I'll actually live when the kids hit high school.

Before I do anything, I need donuts. I'm sure no one would care if I took the whole box.

* * *

><p><strong>And thank you for reading this. It's the first thing I've uploaded in a long while and it took a lot of courage for me to do. Since my last upload, I've been hating everything I wrote. Now, I'm writing again and I'm gaining back my confidence in writing. So, read and review please. Hopefully, I'll get out of this terrible rut.<strong>

**Also, I prefer when Brad doesn't talk, but I think Dave needs some advice.**

**Sorry if I got the category wrong. I'm never able to put something in the right one.**


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